Chương 7
“Should I call the police?”
“You can make a report.”
“Should I?”
“I would.”
The word carried more weight because she did not dramatize it.
“What happens to my parents?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Could they be arrested?”
“Potentially, depending on the evidence and conduct.”
“Could Dad go to prison?”
“I’m not going to predict an outcome before we know what happened.”
I stared at the floor.
Maya let the silence sit.
After a moment, she asked, “Are you worried about him?”
The answer should have been no.
Instead I said, “I don’t know.”
“That’s allowed.”
Riley shifted beside me.
Maya continued.
“You can be harmed by someone and still not want the worst possible thing to happen to them.”
My throat tightened.
I hated how accurately the sentence found me.
“What do I do first?”
“First, you stop communicating with your parents about the substance of this.”
“They keep calling.”
“Let them.”
“What if they come to Riley’s?”
“Do they know where she lives?”
“Yes.”
Maya looked at Riley.
“Do you rent?”
“Yes.”
“Building security?”
“Barely.”
“Then you may want to stay somewhere they won’t immediately think to look.”
Riley opened her mouth.
I knew what she was going to say.
“No.”
She turned to me.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“You were going to say your cousin’s place.”
“I was going to say my sister.”
“That’s worse.”
Maya almost smiled.
Then her face returned to business.
“I’m also going to request records from the lenders and from the estate attorney if you retain me.”
I looked at her.
“How much?”
She named a retainer that made my stomach drop.
Riley stopped writing.
Maya noticed.
“For an initial fraud matter, that’s standard.”
“I have two hundred dollars.”
“Then we discuss options.”
I braced for charity.
Instead, she said, “Some work can be limited in scope, and depending on what we uncover, fees may potentially become part of a later claim, though there are no guarantees.”
She slid a printed page toward me.
“Read this before deciding.”
Again, someone told me to read before signing.
The smallness of that nearly broke me.
My phone vibrated inside my bag.
I ignored it.
Then it vibrated again.
And again.
Riley glanced at me.
“Your parents?”
I checked.
No.
Connor.
The restaurant manager.
His message said:
Amber, please call when you can.
Your father came back this morning.
He says the note was fabricated.
I showed Maya the message.
Her eyes moved over it once.
Then again.
“Do you still have the original note?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In my bag.”
“Keep it there.”
Riley looked between us.
“What does fabricated mean here?”
“It means Amber’s father is contesting authorship.”
“He wrote it.”
“I believe Amber believes that.”
The phrasing irritated me.
Maya noticed.
“That distinction matters if anyone starts making formal accusations.”
“He wrote it.”
“Then we preserve the original and let evidence do its job.”
I reached for my phone.
“Can I call Connor?”
“Yes.”
Maya leaned back.
“Put him on speaker if he agrees.”
Connor answered quickly.
“Amber?”
“I’m here with an attorney.”
There was a short pause.
“Good.”
Maya introduced herself.
Connor did the same.
Then he said, “Your father came in around nine fifteen.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
“With my mother?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the clock on Maya’s wall.
It was eleven twenty-three.
“What happened?”
“He asked to speak with Evelyn.”
“Did she?”
“She did.”
Connor lowered his voice.
“They said there had been a misunderstanding last night.”
Riley muttered, “Amazing.”
Maya gave her a glance.
Connor continued.
“Your father said the note found at the table was not written by him.”
“Found at the table?”
“Yes.”
“He left it inside the check folder.”
“That’s what you told us.”
“It’s what happened.”
“I know.”
Connor sounded uncomfortable.
“I’m just telling you what he said.”
Maya leaned toward the phone.
“Did Mr. Mitchell deny calling the restaurant last night?”
“He admitted calling.”
“What did he say the call was about?”
Connor hesitated.
“He said he informed us his daughter would be settling her portion of the evening.”
“My portion?”
I almost laughed.
“I ordered one chicken.”
Maya lifted a finger toward me, not exactly telling me to stop, but close.
“What did your records show about who made the reservation?”
“Jason Mitchell.”
“And the card on file?”
“Also his.”
“And who ordered the majority of the meal and alcohol?”
“I’d have to defer to the servers’ notes, but based on last night, the adults at the table generally ordered for the group.”
Maya nodded to herself.
“Has anyone altered or discarded any records from the reservation?”
“No.”
“Security footage?”
Connor paused.
“We have interior cameras in public and service areas.”
My pulse quickened.
Riley sat straighter.
Maya did not.
“Do those cameras cover the table?”
“Partially.”
“Do they record audio?”
“No.”
“Can they show Mr. Mitchell handling the check folder?”
“Possibly.”
“Please don’t review or send anything outside your normal procedures because I asked.”
Maya’s voice became precise.
“Just make sure no relevant footage is automatically overwritten.”
“I already spoke with Evelyn about preserving it.”
“Good.”
I leaned toward the phone.
“Connor, did my dad say why I would fake the note?”
“Yes.”
The answer came too fast.
My stomach tightened.
“What did he say?”
Another pause.
“He said you were angry about losing your job and had been having emotional problems.”
For a second, I heard nothing else.
Not the traffic twelve floors below.
Not Maya shifting a paper.
Not Riley breathing beside me.
My father had found the oldest trick he knew.
If I resisted him, I was unstable.
If I cried, I was proof.
If I got angry, I was proof.
If I stayed calm, I was cold and manipulative.
“What exactly did he say?”
Connor sounded reluctant.
“He said you’d been under psychiatric care.”
Riley swore.
Maya’s eyes sharpened.
“I have never been under psychiatric care.”
May you like
My voice came out flatter than I expected.
“I saw a campus counselor three times after a breakup.”
